Archive for funny
About a month ago, all Chloe could do was complain about “Dylan.” She would get off the bus and complain that “Dylan is SO loud! Dylan gets on my nerves! I hate Dylan! Blah, blah, blah.
About two weeks after that, she stepped off the bus, looked up at me with a crooked-teeth smile and asked, “Mom, can I have a play date with Dylan?”
“I thought you didn’t like Dylan?” I said.
My brain thought, “Oh shit, here we go.”
So, I told her that I didn’t have a phone number for Dylan (a small white lie, I suppose I could have looked it up in the directory). A week later she was home with a phone number. So, I guess I have to set up a time to hang out with Dylan.
Under strict parental supervision.
Her teacher even said that she can see that they’ve been very buddy-buddy. It’s quite cute. He’s cute. She’s cute.
It’s a big ol’ bucket of cute.
And hopefully not a glimpse into the future I’m gonna have to deal with.
Well, we’re still dealing with the Christmas craziness…baking cookies (peanut butter blossoms), ordering gifts for the class Christmas parties, buying gifts. All the good stuff. On Saturday, the kids got some cheap laughs from this JibJab we did last year:
It’s amazing the amount of uncontrollable giggles a few farts will produce. A whole farting song? Well, I think Becca almost peed herself
Enjoy what’s left of your weekend!
Well, Chloe gave herself a hair cut.
I’ll start by saying that it could have been worse. I actually didn’t notice for a few hours. (And I’m gonna apologize right now for not having any pictures) Here’s how it went down:
Our niece came over to visit with her two sons (the new one is just nine weeks old, super cute, and slept the whole visit). Anyway, the girls were playing with their cousin, and they started to play school. Outside. Well, fine. I saw Chloe walk by with a pair of safety scissors in her hand. My magic mom sense told me that I should definitely question that. So, I asked her just what exactly she was going to do with those scissors. She told me that she was going to cut some paper. Then, just following my gut (or maybe putting an idea in her head), I asked, “You’re not going to cut your hair with those scissors, are you?” I just had a feeling. She told me, “no.” I made her promise, and she did.
They were playing school, we were chatting. It was pretty hot outside that day, and the girls dug out the (extremely overpriced) spray fan that we got at Disney World. They were spraying their faces and head to keep cool.
Fast forward to a couple of hours later. I went out on the deck, and sat down in our little love seat. As I look at the cushion next to me, I see a tuft of hair, at just about “Chloe-head” level. So, I yell to Chloe. She stands in front of me and I ask her, “Chloe, did you cut your hair?”
“Chloe, did you cut your hair?!?!?!?!”
First, about five seconds of “deer in headlights.”
Then, screaming, crying, and “I’m sorry, mom!”
I grabbed the brush and started checking out exactly how bad it was. She cut the sides, which WAS over her ears. Not any more. I laid a guilt trip on her, told her that Jess (our hairdresser) was going to be very disappointed, and that her head looked wacky. Through the tears, she said to me, “I **sniff, sniff** didn’t know **sniff, sniff* that it wouldn’t **sniff, sniff** LOOK PRETTY!!!!!”
HA! I had to chuckle a little. So, she went to school the next day with everything tucked behind her ears. We took her to Jess (at Hot Heads Hair Design) today, and I think I like the way she fixed it better than the original haircut.
Let’s just call that one a joint effort
Have a great rest of your weekend!!!
You might not know this, but my eyes are TERRIBLE. I mean, most people know that I wear contacts. But most have NO IDEA how terrible my eyes really are. For instance, when I go to bed, I can’t see the alarm clock. The alarm clock that is about twelve inches from my head.
I have some other issues, too. I have very high pressure in my eyes. In fact, I am just on the borderline of having glaucoma. Now, the doc said that I have ‘thick corneas,’ which means that my gold ol’ eyeballs can withstand that pressure. Everything else looks pretty hunky dory. I’m just telling my eyeballs that they need to hang in there for another 50 years or so.
A long time ago, when I was in my early twenties, I went to a different eye doctor. The pressure was high in my eyes back then, too. I’m pretty easy going when I’m at the doctor, and I joke around a lot. I guess that made him comfortable, and he asked me if I ever smoked. Not cigarettes. I told him that I had dabbled a bit, but I didn’t do that on a regular basis. (I WAS in my twenties, you know). I told this story to my current eye doctor. He laughed and said “Well, it would lower your pressure.”
So, I asked, “Are you saying that if I lived in California, I could get a prescription for medical marijuana?” He told me that yes, I probably could.
Isn’t that an interesting little tidbit to know? Don’t worry…I’m not packing up. I’m staying right here in the ‘Burgh. I’ll take Islay’s chipped ham, Primanti sandwiches and the Steelers over a big fat doobie any day.
If you haven’t checked out the site Shit My Kids Ruined, go and do it. Right now. I love this site! For many reasons. First off, it makes me feel better about MY kids. They haven’t ruined that much shit. Especially in one fail swoop. Yeah, they ruined my couch, but it took them years to do it. You have to feel bad for all the people who posted pictures. And, of course, because I’m writing this right now, one of my kids will probably destroy one of my prized possessions. I’ve chosen some of my favorites:
If you click on the pictures, you can see the little story that goes with it on ShitMyKidsRuined.com. That’s your little Saturday treat